Behind the velvet rope hierarchies of NYC restaurant reservations

I have a family member whose celebrity probably peaked at mid-B-list in the 1970s or 80s. One time in the 90s we went to a restaurant in NYC that wasn’t fancy, but was new and pretty popular. They didn’t take reservations. When we arrived nobody recognized her and they told us the wait would be an hour for a table.

She grabbed a matchbook with their phone number on it and we walked around the corner to a payphone. She dialed and in a heavy New Yawk accent said: “This is Georgette from [her name]'s office. She’s on her way to your restaurant for dinner and I TOTALLY forgot to call ahead to make a reservation. Can you still squeeze her in when she arrives?” We walked back around the corner and were promptly seated.

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Bill Paxton is easily the most famous person to ever scoot up next to me at my desk while relaying an anecdote about how awkward it was to pee in a tiny submarine with James Cameron. (True story, I swear.)

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I assume I’m doing it wrong but I’ve been to some of the best restaurants in the world, and all it took was…

…using their online booking system / sending a few polite emails. As long as you’re not an asshat that ABSOLUTELY HAS TO HAVE A TABLE TONIGHT AT 7 then you’ll probably do just fine.

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I would not take nor honor the reservation.

Game over, man. Bill Paxton, rest his soul, died in 2017. :frowning: One of my favorite actors, ever.

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I wonder if people who happen to share names with famous celebrities have an easier time getting reservations? Also, what happens when celebrities who happen to have fairly common names try to make a reservation over the phone?

I imagine there have to be a lot of working-class guys out there who have names like “Will Smith” and “Tom Jones,” but it seems like it would be rude of the reservationist to ask “are you that Will Smith?” before offering a table.

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Good question, where do convincing celebrity lookalikes or imitators fall, category-wise?

This may be the single most arrogant thing I ever post,
But I am exactly the sort of person if people knew what my real life was like would want in their restaurant to add to the stories much more interesting and outrageous then most of the people that have come in the doors.

I’m what you’d call a character.

But I don’t look it much, and most of these places are the most vapid soulless holes with “proper” food on tiny plates and huge egos I’d want nothing to do with in the first place

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If I knew that a restaurant refused reservations on the basis of anything other than being fully booked, I would never eat there. I get that some people get off on that kind of thing, which is fine. But it’s like, if you walk into a scat fetish club by mistake, the bouncer will be like “you do realise this is a scat fetish club?”; restaurants should offer the same courtesy, if they’re a specialist business run by and for assholes.

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Mr. Perdue, Maitre D’ at L’Idiot: You think with a statement like this you can have the duck?

Chef: He can have the chicken!

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Many restaurants that are difficult to book hold back a few tables for last minute walk-ins, investors, friends of the owners, etc. Sort of the opposite of the overbook always airline approach. I know some restaurant owners in SF and that has helped me get tables at some moderately difficult to get times over the years - usually because they are holding something back but none of the Warriors showed up that night.

I totally agree with Textuality. I’ve been lucky enough to eat at some incredibly fine establishments. If you just call them and are polite, or use their system, it’s pretty straightforward. The best one so far in terms of trying to accommodate me - including several cases of phone tag - was 11 Madison Park. The worst in terms of accommodation was French Laundry - they never answer the phone, ever, as far as I can tell. Of course that doesn’t work if you are trying to get a table Right! Now! HEY DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?

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You mention that story every time Paxton comes up here! To be fair, I’d do the same.

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That’s because it’s less embarrassing than the story of the time I met Shelley Duvall as a stupid teenager* and said “hey, didn’t you play Olive Oyl in Popeye?”

*Obviously I was the stupid teenager, not her

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I hope she introduced herself by saying “Hello, I’m Shelley Duvall!”

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The best meal that I ever had was at Le Bernardin.
That Eric Ripert place in NYC.
I wouldn’t trade the experience for most things.
My dad being alive or a better meal would be examples.

What’s wrong with Tim McInnerny?

One of the last times I was in NYC was during Easter and we celebrated the holiday with a dumpling crawl on the LES. By the early afternoon I was stuffed to the limit…

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My favourite Pho restaurant near my old office used to just wave and bring my #10 Large to my table when I went in (which was about 3x/week for 5 years).

After I left that job and moved out of the neighbourhood I didn’t go in for probably 10 years. Last summer I went there with my kid and as far as I can tell the place has been preserved in a time capsule. I walked in, the same waitress greeted me and waved at my usual table, and asked if I wanted my usual. I almost wept.

In fairness, I honestly don’t know why they have anything else on the menu, the #10 is amazing. Maybe everyone orders it.

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Not sure if it was intentional or not, but that’s not bad as poetry.

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I remember watching - and enjoying - The September Issue, the doco about getting the September (fashion) issue of Vogue together, and noticing she was drinking takeaway coffee out of a paper cup and thinking “This woman has enough influence to get Manhattan moved to the far side of the moon and she’s putting up with that?” Humans are a mystery

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One day I hope to meet Nicole Kidman so I can say “weren’t you in BMX Bandits?”

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